


Listlessness

by orphan_account



Category: Yandere Simulator (Video Game)
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 10:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11530590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Anyone who met her could tell that she wasn’t normal.For a while, she didn’t hide it. She didn’t care enough to. She didn’t care enough about anything and she didn’t even know what caring was like. She went through life empty, listless, without purpose, without feeling.And then she methim. He brought color into her life and feeling into her body, and she wasn't going to ever let that go.





	Listlessness

**Author's Note:**

> This is how I always viewed Ayano, no matter her canon story. Her being listless makes more sense than her not having any feelings.

Anyone who met her could tell that she wasn’t normal.

For a while, she didn’t hide it. She didn’t care enough to. She didn’t care enough about anything and she didn’t even know what caring was _like_. She went through life empty, listless, without purpose, without _feeling_.

Was it that she couldn’t control her emotions? Or was it that she didn’t have any?

It was a question she often asked herself in her later life, after everything was said and done. She didn’t really care one way or the other, because it all wound up in the same place, over and over again. It always would. That was just how things worked. But that was only after everything was said and done. For most of her life, Ayano wondered. She spent time, thinking, wondering, trying to feel _something_ , anything and always coming up with nothing, over and over again.

She was empty, alone, without anything to live for. She didn’t know what it was like for everyone else, what it was like to look forward to things, to feel joy after a positive event. She tried, but she couldn’t, and it continuously drove her deeper and deeper into her state of emptiness. The more she tried, the emptier she became, and the less will she had to keep going. After all, what was the point if there was nothing for her?

Her world was full of blacks, whites, and greys. Maybe it hadn’t always been this way. She thought that maybe she could recall some color, something other than this endless void of _nothing_ , but it could also have been chalked up to wishful thinking. She thought maybe, when she was young, before she’d developed the ability to form real, long-term memories, she remembered her mother, playing with her, smiling _at her_ , loving her. But it seemed like a fantasy. After all, Ryoba’s smiles were and had always been reserved for her father, the light of her life. Maybe as a baby, things had been different, but Ayano had grown up, just as everyone did. She grew up and her mother had all but discarded her, their conversations kept to a polite minimum and Ryoba simply meeting Ayano’s physical and material needs and nothing more.

She wondered if she’d ever desired for more. Her father was a different story, always distant, always talking to her in hushed tones, but never close, never personal. There was always something between her and him, some brick wall that Ayano had long since stopped trying to break down. There was no point. There was no point in trying to feel anything, not now and not ever.

By the time she was seventeen, Ayano had resolved herself to a lifetime of this. She would simply function. Nothing more, and nothing less. The emptiness couldn’t be helped and she’d never been able to envision any sort of future for herself because to her, there was nothing at all. She had no potential, no impact, and she’d resolved to stay that way for the rest of her life. It helped her act normal in the face of the black hole of emptiness constantly sucking the unseen colors from her world.

Oh, but that all changed one day.

Honestly, it had started out just like any other day.

Ryoba had acknowledged her with a simple formal greeting and her father had said nothing, as per usual, simply looking down at his breakfast while he ate. She hadn’t tried to make conversation, as there was no point. She’d simply grabbed the same bland piece of toast she ate every other day on her way to school, checked herself in the mirror, pulled back her plain black hair into a simple ponytail, and walked out the door without a farewell. Everything had been grey—the sky, the vegetation, the street, _everything_.

Something odd happened that day. There was unexpected road construction going on, forcing her to detour, which meant possibly arriving late for school. The last thing she wanted to do was stand out, so she’d come to the logical conclusion to pick up the pace, to pull up her stockings and jog to school so as to make it on time and still blend in with the crowd. She checked the construction end date as she jogged past and—

That was when she slammed into _him_.

He was as plain as she was, but there was something about him, something special, something no one else had. It was that something that drew her in, that gave her life.

They fell to the broken up pavement, Ayano barely able to get a good look at the boy she’d run straight into before she found herself sprawled on the pavement with a sharply scraped knee. The pain was dull, hardly there, just like every other thing she’d barely felt, and she took a moment to examine it before looking up.

It wasn’t love at _very_ first sight. He looked exactly how he was to her at first—plain, unimportant, just another mistake that she’d made in an attempt to come off as normal so as not to become anything more than debris on someone’s radar. He was dressed in the school’s uniform, his short hair a usual black, his eyes grey, and he rose to his feet before she did, before she could do anything.

It was then that it happened.

She’d expected him to walk away. That was what people did. It was normal. That’s how anyone else in her life would’ve treated her and that was how she would’ve treated anyone else in her life in return. But the boy didn’t. He bent down, extending a hand to her, his soft grey eyes fixed on her.

“Hey, Aishi Ayano, right?”

She hesitated, staring up at him, her lips forming words at their own accord and without permission from her, “You… know my name?”

“Yeah,” He answered, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smile. “You’re my kohai. Sorry about running into you. Are you alright?”

“Alright…?” She repeated, and something sparked in her, something odd, something colorful. No one in her life had ever treated her like this and the world was suddenly and instantly different because of it. That piece that had been missing, the hole in her chest—here it was, the missing piece, the one last thing she needed to feel complete. She reached out, taking his hand and he pulled her up and the contact was like fire, setting aflame a warmth that she’d never felt before.

She brushed off her skirt and he watched, smiling.

“Would you like to walk to school with me, Yan-chan?” He asked her, nothing but kindness and grace in his voice, making her world blossom around her.

She nodded, finding a voice, _her_ voice, “I’d like that, _Senpai_.”

He was as plain as she was, but there was something about him, something special, something that no one else had. He’d remembered her name, had helped her when she’d fallen. He’d shown her that maybe she wasn’t as alone and insignificant in the world as she thought. This boy had _remembered her name_. He’d helped her and he’d walked her to school, even when Ayano found herself unable to even make conversation between them. He didn’t seem to mind, wearing a smile directed at _her_ the entire way to the school and being as kind and as caring as he had before when they parted ways to go to their respective classrooms.

It was then and there that Ayano realized he’d made her feel things she’d never thought was possible, and that as long as she lived, she wouldn’t let go of the boy who’d shown her that things could be _different_.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
> [My tumblr](https://yaanchan.tumblr.com/)


End file.
